


hot bucket of brellas

by gunsforeyes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunsforeyes/pseuds/gunsforeyes
Summary: A few years after monsters have integrated into human society, Mettaton catches up with an old friend, falls in love, and possibly brings about the downfall of Earth - all by accident, of course.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Slipped and fell into Papyton. This started as just a fun therapeutic writing exercise, but I've gotten attached to it. If you know me from my other works, I hope you enjoy this one just as much. If not, welcome! Let's do this thing!

Napstablook and Shyren were nowhere to be found, as usual - as soon as the show was over they darted backstage to safety and quiet. Occasionally Blooky would shyly greet a few fans, but they were quickly overwhelmed, and had to beat a hasty retreat. Mettaton was more than happy to pick up their slack. Performing was fun, but being showered in adoration was even better.

Goodness, he was _tired_ though. He hid a yawn behind his hand and flashed a charming grin at the human girl who timidly handed him a record to sign. She flushed bright red, muttering something he couldn’t quite catch.

“And what is your name, sweetheart?” Mettaton purred, and she managed to squeak out, “Laura.”

“Laura, how _lovely,”_ he said, signing his name with a flourish and handing it back to her, letting his fingers brush hers. She let out another squeak of delight and ran off to rejoin her friends, who were all but hopping up and down with excitement.

Mettaton smiled to himself, turning to look back over the crowd, and his eyes widened as they landed on a familiar face. Standing at least a head above everyone else, wearing a “METTATON” crop top and ubiquitous red scarf, expression permanently fixed in a grin.

“Papyrus!” Mettaton propelled himself through the people gathered around him, throwing his arms around Papyrus’s neck. “Darling, but you _are_ a sight for sore eyes.” Mettaton sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Literally. It’s terribly bright up there.”

Papyrus didn’t blush, per se, having no skin or blood vessels, but his cheekbones darkened noticeably. He hugged Mettaton back just as tightly. “It is I, the Great Papyrus! I’ve never missed any of your shows! I…” His booming voice faltered for just a moment. “I didn’t know you remembered me.”

Mettaton stepped back, frowning. “Of course I did! I never forget a fan! And it’s only been, what, a couple years?” 

A sudden stab of guilt went through him. Had it really been that long? 

Papyrus beamed, his smile seeming to grow even wider. “Right! Only a couple years! And you’ve been really busy!”

 _I have. I_ have _been busy. Too busy to keep up with everyone else._ Alphys was his assistant, and so Undyne was always around, too, but the rest...

He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it, eyes narrowing, as he looked closer at Papyrus. A part of his skull looked to be discolored, a hairline fracture running through it. He touched it delicately with one finger, and Papyrus flinched away. “Darling, did something happen?”

Papyrus laughed, but it sounded a little forced. “It’s nothing! I just… I just forgot to heal it. You know how wild the crowd gets!” He laughed again.

Mettaton did know how wild the crowd got. But that clearly wasn’t the explanation.

He knew not everyone had adjusted as well as he had. He had been propelled to stardom on the surface world almost immediately - the humans, with few exceptions, had seemed more than willing to accept a handsome, robotic pop star. They didn’t see him as a threat. But a lot of the other monsters had been portrayed as boogeymen for years, and although there was a tentative peace between the races, there were plenty of humans who didn’t like monsters walking among them. 

And Papyrus, bless his gentle soul, never would have lifted his hand against them in retaliation. 

A wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to stumble, and Papyrus caught him easily, his eyes wide with worry. “Mettaton! Are you okay?”

Mettaton smiled down at him reassuringly through hooded eyes. “Of course. I’m fine. Just a little… tired, is all. Alphys fixed my battery problem, for the most part, but shows always take it out of me.”

Determination gleamed in Papyrus’s hollow eye sockets, and he scooped up Mettaton in once swift movement. “Then we’ll find her! And she’ll fix you even better!”

Mettaton grinned. He could have walked, but why walk when a handsome skeleton was more than happy to carry you? “I’m sure she’s off with Undyne, my dear. If you’ll just take me to my rooms, I can recharge.”

Papyrus set off at top speed, the crowd of terrified fans moving quickly to get out of his way. Mettaton let him run for a few seconds, then cleared his throat delicately. “It’s the other way, darling.”

“Of course!” Papyrus spun around, keeping a firm grip on the robot in his arms, and made a beeline for the restricted area. A few of the human security guards looked worried, but seeing Mettaton at ease, they let him pass without issue. 

They neared the door with the giant pink star, and Mettaton tapped a few buttons on his chest to unlock it. He was sure Papyrus would probably try to burst in even though it was locked, and as amusing as that would have been, Mettaton wasn’t eager to be the collateral damage in that situation.

Once inside, Papyrus set Mettaton down on the lavish couch more gently than was strictly necessary, and began to look around wildly for a charging port. 

“Mm… On second thought, don’t worry about that.” Mettaton waved a lazy hand, stretching his legs out. “It’s a whole ordeal, and I’ll be out of commission for a while. Just pop a few of those batteries in, and I’ll be good to go for a few more hours.”

Papyrus turned back to him, looking conflicted. “Are you sure? Don’t you need rest?”

“And I’ll get it, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me.” Mettaton winked at him, delighted to see the blush spread over the skeleton’s cheeks again as he wrung his hands. “But I wanted to catch up with you more. I’ll charge right up after that, I promise.”

“Oh!” Papyrus flushed even more. “I - Sure! Where… where are they?”

Mettaton gestured to the vanity across the room. “They’re in that box there, on the left. Two should do it.”

Papyrus plucked two of them out gently, carrying them back to Mettaton. 

“Would you mind doing it for me? It’s on my back, and I can’t reach it myself.” A lie, but he had the feeling his companion wouldn’t mind.

Papyrus fumbled with the batteries, almost dropping them, and stuttered out a “Sure!”

Mettaton turned over onto his stomach, flipping his hair to look at Papyrus over his shoulder. “It’s right there in the middle, darling. Can’t miss it.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and Papyrus’s finger grazed the latch carefully. Mettaton smiled to himself. Was it cruel to tease him like this? 

“It’s - it’s this, right?”

“Exactly,” Mettaton purred, letting his voice grow a little huskier. “Right there, you’ve got it.”

A deep breath, as though Papyrus was steeling himself. He flipped the latch, gently opening the plate.

“You don’t have to be so careful with me.” Mettaton chuckled. “I may not be indestructible in this body, but I assure you, I won’t break.”

“I have to be careful, though!” Papyrus protested. “I don’t want to hurt you! Or - or mess up your batteries, or something!”

“It’s very simple. I have complete faith in you.” Mettaton laid his head down on his folded arms, the very picture of relaxation. “Just… if you would, don’t take them both out at once. It’s rather jarring.”

“Oh!” Papyrus pulled his hand back as though he’d been shocked, leading Mettaton to believe that his warning had been just in time. “Okay! I, the Great Papyrus, will not let you down!”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Mettaton mumbled, yawning, his eyes drifting closed.

He must have been more tired than he thought, because the next thing he knew the latch was being shut and a welcome rush of energy flooded his body. Papyrus crouched down beside him, concern plain on his face. “Mettaton! Are you okay? Did I do it right?”

Mettaton smiled, reaching out a hand to cup Papyrus’s cheek. “You did wonderful, sweetheart. I feel like a million bucks.”

Papyrus’s eyes crinkled in pleasure, even as his cheeks darkened again. “I’m so glad! I would never want anything to happen to you!”

Another pang of guilt. Papyrus had said he’d been to all of his shows. And how many times had he spared a moment to think about Papyrus?

“Darling, I don’t deserve a friend like you,” he said, standing up and stretching. 

“What?” Papyrus looked struck, then positively elated. “You - we’re - of course you do! Are we - are we really friends?”

Even if the answer had been no, Mettaton wouldn’t have had the heart to tell him so. The look on his face was so genuine, so sweet. He took Papyrus’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles. “Of course we are. You’re my biggest fan, aren’t you?”

The skeleton looked like he might combust, and Mettaton decided he should probably rein it in a little before he had to call someone to clean up a pile of bones from his dressing room. He released Papyrus’s hand, taking a moment to briefly check his hair in the mirror. Still perfect. “Do you have anywhere you need to be? Or can I steal you for just a little longer?”

“You can steal me for as long as you want!” Papyrus clasped his hands to his chest. “I just have to call Sans and let him know I’ll be late!”

“Oh, by all means.” Mettaton waved towards a door. “That leads into another room of mine, if you want some privacy.” 

“Thanks!” Papyrus dashed into it, and Mettaton heard the clacking sound of numbers being dialed furiously, and a shouted _”SANS!”_

He winced, then smiled. Papyrus’s excitement was flattering, he had to admit.

“SANS! I’M WITH METTATON RIGHT NOW! YEAH! YEAH, I KNOW! I _KNOW!_ WE’RE GONNA HANG OUT! UM… I’M NOT SURE! I’LL HAVE TO LET YOU KNOW! BUT I’LL BE LATE!”

A soft murmuring, ostensibly Sans on the other line, and a chuckle.

“SO I’LL SEE YOU SOON! OKAY, BYE!” Papyrus tapped the phone to hang up so vehemently Mettaton was momentarily worried he might have cracked the screen. His worry proved to be founded when Papyrus came back out, looking sheepish and holding his phone delicately. “It’s okay!” he said when Mettaton looked over at him. “I get a discount at the repair shop! They said since I give them so much business it’s the least they can do!”

Mettaton thought about Papyrus replacing his batteries with the same enthusiasm, and had to shiver. “Well. Now that that’s taken care of - are you hungry?”

The look on Papyrus’s face was all the answer he needed. “Excellent. Have you ever been to any of my restaurants?”

“Uh… no.” Papyrus looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry! I’ve always wanted to, but… I haven’t yet.”

Mettaton felt that now-familiar guilt in the pit of his stomach. His chain of restaurants was prohibitively expensive - he’d never needed to worry about that, but he was sure Papyrus would have gone by now if he’d been able to afford it. Clearly he couldn’t, and Mettaton felt like a cad for asking.

“Not to worry, hon,” he said breezily. “What better introduction to “Mettaton’s” than with the man himself?” He held an arm out for Papyrus to take, which he did eagerly. “I’ll call us a limo.”

Papyrus opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but snapped it shut. 

“Something on your mind?”

“No - I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was… going to say that I had a car, but… of course you’d rather go in a limo! It’s much nicer!” 

“Darling, why didn’t you say so? If you want to drive us, I’d be honored.” Mettaton smiled down at him. “I don’t drive, myself, but I remember something about you always being an automobile aficionado. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first.”

Papyrus let out a soft involuntary breath. “You knew that?”

He wasn’t sure how he knew - certainly, he hadn’t paid the skeleton as much attention as he should have, back in the underground. But he remembered hearing about it, somehow. Possibly from Alphys, who’d heard it from Undyne, or something. But he was glad he did, if only to see that beaming smile again. He leaned his head on Papyrus’s, careful to avoid where he’d been hurt. “Of course I did, you silly thing.”

“Oh!” Papyrus laughed nervously. “Yeah, I… I never thought I’d get a chance to actually _drive_ one! It’s a lot harder than it looks!” He gasped and Mettaton lifted his head up to look at him curiously. “Don’t worry! I’m a much better driver now! I’ve had lots of practice! I won’t let you get hurt, I promise!”

“I know you won’t.” Papyrus treated everyone this way, he knew. He had become best friends with the human Frisk barely an hour after meeting them. But it still made Mettaton feel warm to hear such a heartfelt declaration.


	2. The Date

Papyrus hadn’t been kidding - he was an excellent driver. So excellent that they garnered plenty of glares from other drivers, annoyed by how strictly he adhered to the posted speed limit. He gave everyone who passed them a friendly grin, clearly just thrilled to be driving and assuming everyone else felt the same way.

It wasn’t a particularly nice car - in fact, it was a bit of a junker - but Papyrus took obvious pride in it, so Mettaton made sure to lavish praise on it. It looked safe enough, and Papyrus was confident it would get them where they were going, so the fact that it would hardly have been Mettaton’s first choice of transportation was irrelevant. 

The top was a bit of an issue, however; Papyrus had told him he’d got it as a convertible car with the top missing, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. But then, he didn’t have hair. Mettaton was glad he’d brought a hairbrush with him. He was going to look a mess once they arrived.

He directed Papyrus to pull up the valet, who first gave them a look of disgust, but upon seeing Mettaton they quickly became obsequious, bowing to Papyrus and taking his keys as though they were jewels. Mettaton tipped them a few hundred.

“Wowie!" Papyrus had his hands to his cheeks, looking up at the sign in amazement. “This place is _so cool!_ So fancy!”

Mettaton smiled, taking his arm again. “I’m flattered you think so. I only settle for the best.”

That made Papyrus frown thoughtfully, and look down at himself. “Are you… sure I’m dressed okay?”

He most certainly wasn’t. “Mettaton’s” had a strict black tie dress code. “Absolutely. You look gorgeous.”

_”Wowie!”_ Papyrus was overcome with glee, and Mettaton had to gently steer him towards the front door. Thankfully the doormen were a little more well-bred than the valet, and they opened the doors for the pair immediately, giving gracious bows. Mettaton tipped both of them as well.

As soon as they entered, the restaurant fell silent. Some people looked at Papyrus with admiration, some with jealousy, and some with outright hatred. He only seemed to notice the admiration, and grinned back at everyone, beaming with pride. Mettaton let go of Papyrus long enough to give a dramatic bow, causing the patrons to explode into applause. 

Not for the first time, he thought about how wonderful it was to have gotten everything he’d ever wanted. 

“Now, darling,” he said, as a hostess led them towards the back, “I have my own private booth, so no one will bother us there. Order anything you like - it’s on me, of course.”

“Mettaton, you don’t have to do that!” Papyrus looked shocked and slightly guilty. 

“Nonsense! You’re my dear friend and I invited you out. It’s my treat.” He was glad when Papyrus didn’t protest too much - Mettaton knew he wouldn’t be able to afford to pay, and he certainly didn’t want to embarrass him. “Besides, and I hope you don’t think me cheap, but I and any guests of mine eat for free here.”

Papyrus laughed, relieved. “Oh! Well, that’s okay then!” He’d reached over and put his other hand on Mettaton’s arm, the one looped through his. Mettaton didn’t think he’d realized yet, and declined to point it out, in case he stopped. “That doesn’t sound cheap!” he continued. “That sounds…” He paused, thinking. “‘Business-savvy.’”

Mettaton had to laugh. He wasn’t quite sure where to start dissecting that, but he did know what Papyrus meant, so where was the harm? He didn’t make much sense, but at the same time, he did, somehow. Had he always been like this? Why hadn’t they been friends?

“That’s exactly what I was going for.” Mettaton gently led him to a stop in front of a heavy velvet curtain, purple and covered with sequins and glitter. The hostess pulled the drawstring, revealing a giant round booth, with room enough for at least twenty people. Papyrus’s eyes boggled.

“I have a reserved booth in all of my restaurants, in case I’m inclined to visit,” Mettaton explained. “I don’t always use them, but sometimes I do like the privacy.”

“Wow _ie,”_ Papyrus said, his voice hushed in awe. 

The hostess gave a slight bow as the two of them were seated - “Robots first,” Papyrus had said with a gallant bow of his own - and handed them menus. She looked from Mettaton to Papyrus curiously as though she wanted to ask something, but blushed and shook her head slightly. “I’ll be back as soon as you’re ready,” she said politely, leaving and closing the curtain behind her. 

Mettaton moved to the very back of the booth, stretching his arms behind his head lazily. “As I said, feel free to order whatever you’d like. I don’t eat, but the brilliant Dr. Alphys has invented an oil that tastes _just_ like champagne, and has a similar effect, so of course I have all my restaurants keep a supply.” His restaurants had also carried sequin-and-glue Kobe steaks at first (a trifle fancier than the burgers he’d had in the underground), and a few adventurous humans had tried them, but after several emergency room visits and threats of lawsuits he’d had to compromise. Now the sequins were made of seaweed, with edible glitter painted on them. 

He looked over at Papyrus, who had his menu open and was staring at it in a daze, perched on the very edge of the booth. “Darling, you don’t have to sit so far away. I don’t bite. Unless, of course, I’m asked to.”

Papyrus jolted, turning wide eyes on Mettaton. “What? Oh! Sorry! I’m - Am I supposed to ask you? To bite me?” He scooted awkwardly until there was about half a foot of space between them.

Mettaton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Just a joke, sweetheart. There’s no need to be so nervous.”

“Right! I know that!” Papyrus puffed out his chest, a gesture which did not hide his anxious gulp of air. “Do you - would you mind ordering for me? I don’t…” His cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked a little glum. “I don’t really know what most of this is. Some chef I am.”

He wouldn’t - the menu was inscrutable, written in tiny curlicue font and peppered with words that may or may not exist in any known language. Mettaton had designed it himself. It was beautiful, if not functional, but people didn’t come here for the food. They came for the atmosphere.

Mettaton reached out to rub Papyrus’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. It’s really just for decoration, anyway. I’ll have them make something you’ll love.”

“Oh, Mettaton! That’s so sweet!” Mettaton could almost see hearts in his eyes. 

“The world is my oyster, Papyrus.” He made a grand, sweeping gesture with his hand. “And as long as you’re with me, it’s your oyster, too.”

Papyrus’s eyes grew wide, then his brow furrowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had oysters before.”

“I’m told they’re very good. But it was more of a metaphor, really.” Mettaton lightly tapped the gleaming purple button on the table in front of him, and a short, cat-like monster appeared almost immediately.

“Are messieurs ready to order?”

“We are,” Mettaton said smoothly. “A bottle of champagne for my friend, and for me as well. I’m sure you know the kind. And he will have one of everything else.”

_“Everything?”_ Papyrus swiveled his head to look at him, his jaw dropping open in comedic surprise.

“No… you’re right.” Mettaton tapped his cheek thoughtfully, the sound echoing in the booth. “Not everything. Only the best.”

The waiter must have been familiar with Mettaton, or been trained extensively on what to do should he show up, because he gave no indication of surprise or confusion. He nodded graciously, and took their menus without comment.

“Now,” Mettaton said, taking advantage of Papyrus’s speechlessness to move a few inches closer to him. “I want to hear everything. How are all of our old friends doing?”

He wanted to wince as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Our” friends. Mettaton barely knew them.

Papyrus didn’t take offense, though. He seemed excited to talk about them. “Great! They’re so, so great! Well… mostly.” His grin slipped for just a moment. Strange how someone with a static face could be so expressive and easy to read. “I mean - you know! It’s been an adjustment! They’re _going_ to be great. That’s what I meant!”

So, things were terrible. “Go on,” Mettaton prodded gently. “And how about you? Are _you_ great?”

As Mettaton had known he would, Papyrus took the bait, gleaming. “Of course I am! I am The Great Papyrus! I’m the _best!”_

“And what exactly does that entail, these days?”

“I got a job! It’s not exactly the Royal Guard, or anything, but it’s close. I’m a security guard! I protect people!” He grinned brightly, then deflated a little. “Well… not people, but empty buildings. And I don’t have any weapons. And they didn’t train me. And I’m not allowed to fight anyone. But! They said that shouldn’t be a problem anyway! Since if anyone showed up, they’d see me and be terrified and run away!”

Mettaton had never met anyone less terrifying in his life than Papyrus. But he did know that for humans, skeletons were seen as grim spectres of death, so he supposed it made sense. He plastered a smile on his face, for Papyrus’s sake. “That’s an extremely important job. All _sorts_ of nefarious villains creep around abandoned buildings at night, waiting for their chance to break in and steal everyone’s hard-earned money, or set the place on fire, or…” He fished in vain for some other heinous crime. “Well. I don’t suppose I need to go into all the sordid details, but it is truly horrifying. I’m sure so many people rest easier at night knowing you’re there to protect their livelihoods.”

Something flashed over Papyrus’s face, gone too quickly for Mettaton to identify it. Then his usual cocky grin was back, and he was nodding along. “You’re right! It _is_ important! I’ll do such a good job, and then the humans will all finally see how useful I am!”

God, if that wasn’t the saddest thing he’d heard all day. Mettaton made a mental note to talk to Alphys and see if they could find him a better job. 

He couldn’t think of something to say that wouldn’t sound pitying, so he just smiled and changed the subject. “Your head must be hurting you tremendously. I’m sure someone here has some painkillers, or -” He felt at a loss. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my healing abilities are rather limited, or else I’d help you myself.”

Papyrus blinked, as though he’d completely forgotten about it. His expression quickly became cagey, and he avoided Mettaton’s eyes. “R-Really! Don’t worry about it! It’ll be fine in no time! I… it already feels better!”

Mettaton would have liked to get his hands on whoever had done it. Show them that some monsters should be feared.

He shook the thoughts away. Papyrus wouldn’t like that, and it would hardly help their cause. He hummed, pretending to think. “I should have more security posted in the crowds. I’ve made it _very_ clear that there is to be no violence at my shows. Perhaps I should enstate some sort of punishment policy, as well.”

Papyrus looked even paler than usual. “I - I’m sure that’s not necessary! It was probably just an accident! I was being clumsy!”

Mettaton laid a hand on his arm and looking him unblinking in the eyes. His voice was soft and soothing, but held an edge. “Which was it, Papyrus? Were you clumsy? Or was it an accident? A scratch on the arm I could understand, or a bruised toe. These things happen in crowds. But you’re taller than all but just a few humans. And your skull is actually _cracked._ How did it happen? Did they throw something at you?”

“It wasn’t -” He looked deeply conflicted, and Mettaton almost regretted bringing it up. “They were… just playing a game! A human game. Lots of rocks and yelling. I tried not to get in the way, but I must have. It was my fault.”

Mettaton wasn’t sure what the look on his face was, but whatever it was, it made Papyrus pull back a little.

“When did this happen?”

“...Right before the show. I was on the way there.”

He wanted to grab Papyrus by his bony shoulders and shake some sense into him. You don’t get a skull fracture and then _go to a concert._

Papyrus’s voice in his head, loud and excited. _“I’ve never missed any of your shows!”_

He took his hand off Papyrus’s arm, sighing deeply and rubbing the bridge of his nose. What could he say? Things were getting better between humans and monsters, but he doubted they’d ever be perfect. There would always be those humans, frightened, angry, ready to hurt those they saw as a threat. 

“I’m sorry, Papyrus,” he said, trying to make his voice even, and hoping he succeeded. “They should have been more careful.”

Papyrus let out a heavy breath of relief, clearly glad the conversation was over. He gave Mettaton a big smile, and was about to speak when the waiter reappeared with a pair of tall champagne flutes and two bottles on ice. He placed the bucket of black champagne in front of Mettaton, and the regular champagne in front of Papyrus, and bowed smoothly, making room for the chef and his cart piled high with food.

The chef, a tall, rotund human man, bowed deeply to Mettaton, and bowed to Papyrus as well, although not quite so deeply. He had the confident smile of a man who knew he had nothing to fear. 

“I’m certain everything will be to your liking, sirs,” he said in a deep baritone. “I was told you requested only the best of the menu, and so I have brought you one of everything on the menu. As, of course, we only serve the best.”

Mettaton smiled mischievously. “Well done, darling. That’s exactly what I had hoped for.”

The chef gave another bow, the smug smile still on his face, and left them alone as the waiter laid the dishes out on the table.

Papyrus stared at the spreadl hungrily, but he seemed a little unsure. “I really don’t think I can eat all of this, Mettaton… Is it okay if I bring some home for Sans?”

In an upscale restaurant like this, it was a tremendous faux pas to ask for a doggy bag. “Mettaton’s” didn’t even carry them, being of the opinion that if you didn’t like the food enough to eat it all at once, then you didn’t deserve to take it home. 

“Of course you can,” Mettaton said grandly. “I’d hate to leave him out.”

He poured himself a glass of Mettapagne, leaning on one elbow to watch Papyrus pick out the dishes that looked most appealing to him. What they were, no one could say, but they were certainly pretty. “Speaking of that brother of yours, what’s he up to these days?”

It was the wrong question to ask, he realized immediately - Papyrus froze mid-reach, his bony fingers grazing a plate of god-knows-what. He smiled with some effort, and pulled it closer to him. “He’s… It’s been tough on him.”

Mettaton waited.

Papyrus picked up his fork, twirling it aimlessly in what seemed to be some type of pasta. He kept his eye sockets firmly fixed on the plate. “I was hoping things would be easier up here. I was hoping it would make him happy. You know. Being on the surface and everything. But he’s just… Did you know they wouldn’t hire him as a scientist? Apparently he doesn’t have the ‘credentials.’ He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met! It’s not _fair!”_

Papyrus gripped his fork so tightly Mettaton was afraid he might break it. He blinked, looking up at Mettaton, a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m sorry! It’s not your problem. He’ll be fine! It’ll just… it’ll just take a little more time!”

Mettaton wasn’t sure what to say. He’d only known Sans in passing, at best. Any sympathy he might offer might be misconstrued as patronizing. He put his hand over Papyrus’s, the one that wasn’t holding the fork, and squeezed it lightly.

Papyrus gave him a genuine smile, and cleared his throat. “Anyway! Your show tonight was amazing! Probably the best one yet!”

He would know; he’d been to all of them. 

A thought suddenly occurred to Mettaton, one that made him want to smack his forehead. Papyrus worked as a security guard - not a well-paying job. His car was a beat-up junker. He couldn’t afford to go to Mettaton’s restaurant. But he’d been to all his shows. 

Mettaton smiled back at Papyrus, hoping he didn’t see the strain it took. “Darling, you are entirely too sweet. I’m so flattered! I never want you to miss one. Thinking about you in the audience will keep me going, even on the most difficult nights.”

“Oh!” Papyrus put his hands to his reddening face, a gesture which Mettaton was beginning to find infuriatingly endearing. 

“So,” Mettaton continued smoothly, “I’m putting your name on the list. You’ll get into every show, no ticket required. And of course, you can bring as many of your friends as you want.”

_”Mettaton!”_ His normally booming voice had risen to a squeak. _”Really?”_

“Do you really think I’d tease you?” Mettaton flicked him gently under the chin. “Of course! I can’t perform without my biggest fan in attendance!”

Papyrus was speechless with joy, and Mettaton laughed. “Don’t let it get cold, darling,” he said, gesturing to the plate in front of him. “Or… perhaps it’s supposed to be cold. I’m not entirely sure.”

“Right…” Papyrus lifted his fork, overwhelmed, and took a mechanical bite. As soon as he did, his eyes lit up, and he let out a very loud sigh of pleasure. _“Mmm!_ I wish I could cook like this! Do you think they’d teach me?”

How did Papyrus manage to be so adorable, no matter what he was doing? Perhaps he could teach Mettaton how to do _that._

Actually… what Papyrus had said so flippantly wasn’t a terrible idea. He liked to cook, didn’t he? He’d mentioned that a few times. Mettaton was sure he could find some room for him at one of his restaurants. 

Once Papyrus had gotten started eating, there was no stopping him. Even he seemed surprised at his appetite, shoveling in food as quickly as was polite. Mettaton sipped his champagne and watched him, smiling. Every so often he’d point to a plate that hadn’t been touched yet and comment, “You missed a spot.” Papyrus laughed every time. 

Once Papyrus was satisfied, and the rubble had cleared, there was still quite a bit of food left. Mettaton pushed the purple button, summoning the cat waiter to pack up the rest to go. To his credit, the waiter nodded as though it was a reasonable request, and took the plates with him. 

Papyrus leaned back in his seat, sighing happily. He folded his arms behind him, looking up at the elaborate chandelier that hung above them. “This is the best night I’ve had in a really long time.”

_Must_ he say things like that? Mettaton raised his glass. “To many more, darling.”

Papyrus eagerly toasted to that, taking just a sip. Mettaton noticed Papyrus’s bottle had barely been touched, but didn’t comment. Another odd twinge of guilt to add to the pile that was steadily growing.

Papyrus’s phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket, looking first confused at the text message, then horrified. _“Sans!”_ he wailed. “I forgot to call him back! He must have been so worried! I’m a terrible brother!”

The waiter reappeared with the rest of Papyrus’s food wrapped up, and beat a hasty retreat. Papyrus grabbed it, standing up and looking frantic.

“Darling, I’m certain you’re not.” Mettaton eased himself out of the booth, taking Papyrus’s free arm. “Just text him back and let him know you’re all right.”

“I should be getting back, anyway. It’s late.” Papyrus looked torn, and Mettaton chuckled soothingly.

“If you must. At least let me walk you out.”

-

The valet brought around Papyrus’s car, and Papyrus stood in front of it, dithering. “Should I take you back to the arena? Or… are you staying somewhere else?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Watch this.” Mettaton held his hand up and snapped his fingers, and within moments a glittering pink limousine had pulled up behind Papyrus’s car. He grinned at Papyrus’s look of amazement, and flipped his hair.

“I’ve had a wonderful evening, darling. I do hope we can do this again sometime.”

Papyrus turned pink again, a sight Mettaton didn’t think he would get sick of any time soon. “Yeah! Yeah - me too! I had a really great time!”

They stood in silence for a moment. Mettaton resisted the urge to crack his knuckles. “Well. I suppose this is goodnight.”

“I… I guess so.” Papyrus smiled shyly. The difference between a shy smile and a huge grin was minute, given that his face was always fixed in a rictus grin, but somehow it was easy to tell. “You’re a really good friend, Mettaton.”

Oof. “As are you, sweetheart.” He rested his hand on Papyrus’s cheek, batting his eyes. _Hint, hint._ “A very good one.”

Papyrus melted at the touch, the pink of his cheekbones turning to a bright red. He touched Mettaton’s hand gently, almost reverently, and then dropped it as he caught sight of the driver waiting in the limo.

“Oh! Sorry! I’m holding you up!”

Mettaton took his hand away, laughing. “Don’t worry, darling. She’ll wait as long I need her to.”

Papyrus blinked in confusion. “Oh. Well, that’s sure nice of her!”

Mettaton suppressed a groan. “Yes, it certainly is.” Were they really going to stand here all night like two teenagers on the stoop? 

Apparently so, since Papyrus just scratched his head, looking unsure of what he was supposed to say.

“Well. I suppose this is goodnight.” God, he’d already said that, hadn’t he? “Go on, see to your brother. I’m sure he’ll be excited to see what you’ve brought him.”

Papyrus glanced down at the bag in his hand like he’d already forgotten he was holding it. “Right! I’ve got to get this home before it gets cold!” He paused. “Or hot, or something.”

“Drive safe, alright?” Mettaton headed towards his limo with an inward sigh, blowing a kiss over his shoulder. 

“You too!” Papyrus vaulted into his car from the passenger side, setting the bag on the seat beside him very gently.

On the ride home, Mettaton smacked himself in the forehead, hard enough that the driver looked back in alarm at the sound. He’d forgotten to get Papyrus’s number.


	3. The Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the formatting's a little weird - did you know how incredibly annoying it is to try to add emojis on ao3? And did you know that this story is, foolishly, FULL of emojis? I have no one to blame but myself.

Sans stretched out on the couch, sighing. The old television was blaring some ad about toothpaste, the voiceover sounding as bored as he was. He hoped Papyrus was having fun at the show.

His phone rang, and when he picked it up Papyrus’s grinning face was on the screen. Speak of the devil. He hit the green button, and before he had time to say hello, Papyrus was shouting.  _ “SANS!” _

He winced, moving the phone away from his head just a little. A faint smile came to his face. “Hey, bro. You havin’ a good time?”

“SANS! I’M WITH METTATON RIGHT NOW!”

He raised an eyebrow, or the spot where one would have been if he’d had one. “Yeah?” 

“YEAH!”

It was good to hear him so happy. Sans grinned. “I guess you are havin’ a good time, then. That’s your dream come true.”

“YEAH, I KNOW!”

“You’ve had a crush on that dude for like, ever.”

“I  _ KNOW! _ WE’RE GONNA HANG OUT!”

“Sounds great. Where’s he taking you?”

“UM… I’M NOT SURE! I’LL HAVE TO LET YOU KNOW! BUT I’LL BE LATE!”

“Alright.” He chuckled. “If you go anywhere cool, let me know.”

“SO I’LL SEE YOU SOON! OKAY, BYE!”

Papyrus would be late, but he’d see him soon. Sans chuckled again to himself as Papyrus hung up. Not sure how he was going to manage that.

The good humor he’d gotten from talking to Papyrus was already fading. Already being replaced with worries of what could go wrong. 

He’d spoken to Frisk, after they came to the surface. While everyone else was marveling at the sun, and making excited plans of what they were going to do now, he’d pulled the kid aside.

“No more resets, right?” he’d asked, trying not to let his voice shake.

Frisk had scrunched up their face, as though trying to remember something, and looked at Sans with wide eyes.  _ I… _ Their hand faltered as they signed.  _ I can’t… do it anymore.  _

“You can’t?” Sans blinked. “You sure?”

_ I mean… _ They signed slowly, deliberately, gathering their thoughts.  _ It wasn’t me, anyway. I never meant to. But now… Sans, I can’t even find my save file. I don’t think anything can change now.  _

He let that sink in for a moment. No save files. No more resets, and no going back. It was over.

He glanced at Papyrus, who was gesticulating wildly to Undyne and yelling something about race cars. 

No saving. No reloading. No going back.

Frisk was just one human kid. And they - or whoever they’d been in those timelines - had slaughtered every monster they’d come across. Had killed Papyrus in a million different ways, a million different times. The image of his brother fading into dust in front of him, over and over, was permanently etched into the back of his skull.

The surface had billions of humans. 

-

He should have been relieved. The nightmare was over. No one had died, they were on the surface, there wouldn’t be any more resets. Time worked just the way it should, only going forward, not swirling around him in waves, each repetition somehow worse than the last. He should have been relieved. 

But if anyone died, now… there was no reloading. There was no trying again. They’d be gone for good. 

Every time Papyrus left his sight, his heart went into his stomach and stayed there until he saw him again. There were billions of humans on the surface. 

He tried to act normal, tried to be as happy as everyone else was. But the surface was loud and crowded, the sun was too bright, and people stared at him in horror. Stared at Papyrus in horror. Billions. For good. 

He’d managed to pick up a couple jobs, one as an overnight janitor, and one working in a warehouse. Away from the prying eyes of most humans. He didn’t mind that part so much. 

Papyrus was an adult. He couldn’t hover over him every second of the day. Papyrus deserved to live his own life, make his own way in this new world. If any of them could, it was him. He had almost as much determination as a human. 

Sans sat up with a groan. Might as well forage in the fridge for something. Find some trashy human tv show to watch. Kill some time.

Papyrus would have a great time, and he’d come back excited and bursting at the seams with stories about his idol. He’d be safe. He’d be fine. 

Humans drove like maniacs, sometimes. Sans had seen footage of car crashes on tv, twisted heaps of burning metal. Drunk drivers came out of nowhere. You weren’t safe, no matter how carefully you drove. You were never safe. 

He opened the refrigerator door. Tupperwares full of spaghetti piled on top of each other. He shut the refrigerator door. 

When had he come into the kitchen?

He found a bag of chips (who called them “chips?”) in the pantry, and settled heavily back on the couch with a sigh, fumbling under the cushions for the remote. 

Mettaton would look out for Papyrus. He seemed like a cool enough guy. Alphys liked him, at least, and that was a mark in his favor. As was Napstablook being in his band. They seemed to be on good terms these days. Although you never knew. 

He propped his feet up on the coffee table, switching through channels until he found a program he recognized. A loud human visting restaurants and yelling at the people working there. He missed Grillby’s.

He sat through a few episodes, feeling the constant tiredness sinking into his bones, before he checked his phone. No word from Papyrus. It was getting late.

_ hey bro. i might be asleep by the time you get back. hope youre having fun   _

He’d be fine. He’d be fine. Sans pressed send, and curled up underneath the blanket, letting his eyes close. 

-

He awoke what felt like only seconds later to Papyrus bursting through the door to their apartment. “SANS! I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW LATE IT GOT!”

Sans sat up blearily, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Pap. I was just hangin’ out. How’d it go?”

Papyrus dropped a heavy bag on the coffee table, slamming the door shut behind him. He leaned against the door frame, bony arms wrapped around himself, a look of pure bliss on his face.  _ “Amazing _ ! It was  _ amazing! _ He was so happy to see me! He just ran up and hugged me! I didn’t know he even  _ remembered  _ me! Then he took me to his restaurant, and oh,  _ Sans! _ It was so fancy! And everything was so  _ good!  _ And he got me front row tickets to  _ all  _ of his shows - I’m on the list!”

Sans listened to him recount every tiny detail of his evening (except for something that had happened in Mettaton’s dressing room, which made Papyrus blush furiously upon remembering it and then quickly change the subject), and smiled, settling his hands comfortably in the pockets of his hoodie. 

“So it was a real-life date then, huh? Did ya kill it?”

Papyrus froze, gaping at him like a fish. “...What?”

Sans held up one hand, counting on his fingers. “He took you to a restaurant, just the two of you, and paid for everything. Then he walked you back to your car and said he wanted to see you again. Sounds like a date to me, buddy.”

Papyrus clasped his hands to his face. “I - No! It was just a friend-date! Like, as friends! He said we were friends!”

“Did he try and kiss you?”

“No…” Papyrus frowned, thinking hard. “But he did… seem a little weird when we were leaving? Like he didn’t want to go. Like he was waiting for me to say something.”

Sans rolled his eyes affectionately, a grin forming. “He was waiting for you to kiss him. Pretty fast mover.” He chuckled. “I coulda told him you were too old-fashioned to kiss on a first date.”

“Oh. My. God.” Papyrus’s face was bright red in mortification. “He  _ wasn’t! _ We’re just friends! Really good friends who change each others’ batteries!”

Sans raised an eyebrow, amused. “Wasn’t aware you took batteries, Pap.”

“OH MY GOD!” Papyrus covered his face, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant! It’s just - it wasn’t a date! I didn’t even wear my date outfit! So it couldn’t have been!”

“So wear it next time, then. And tell him not to get fresh with you til the third date.”

_ “SANS!” _

“...Fourth date?”

_ “SANS, PLEASE!” _

Sans laughed, a warm, genuine sound that bubbled up from within. It was nice, feeling something that wasn’t just the constant fog of malaise that felt like it had seeped into his bones and taken up permanent residence. “I’m just bustin’ your chops, bro. Didn’t mean to get under your skin.”

Papyrus peeked from between his fingers, glowering. _“Really?_ Bad jokes? At a time like this?”

“Any time is a good time for bad jokes.” Sans leaned back on the couch, folding his arms behind his head. “Whatcha got in the bag?”

Papyrus’s eyes lit up, and he dashed to open it. “Oh, yeah! I brought you a ton of food! Mettaton just got one of everything on the menu! So I brought the rest for you!”

Sans’s eyes widened, and he was suddenly glad he hadn’t settled for any of the leftover pasta in the fridge. “That guy really doesn’t do shit halfway, huh?”

“Nope!” Papyrus was hugging himself again, letting out a sigh of admiration. Sans could almost see the hearts in his eyes. “He’s so cool!”

As Papyrus moved, Sans noticed something strange in the dim light. A discoloration on the side of Papyrus’s skull. 

“Pap, did something happen?”

Papyrus stopped, looking at Sans in confusion. “Huh?”

Sans tapped the side of his own skull, and pointed at Papyrus.

“Oh!” He immediately clapped a hand over the spot, then winced. “It’s - not a big deal! I got in the way of some kids playing a game on the way to the show!”

Papyrus wasn’t a liar, but he wasn’t meeting Sans’s eyes, either. There was more to it than that. “Lemme take a look.”

“No, it’s - it’s fine, really!” He began to take boxes of food out of the bag he’d brought in. “I’m not sure what most of this is, but it was really good! You should try some!”

Sans opened his mouth to ask what kind of game they’d been playing, exactly, and to insist on taking a closer look, but Papyrus clearly wanted to focus on the more pleasant parts of his night. Sans couldn’t blame him, and he felt momentarily bad about bringing down the mood. He’d look at it tomorrow. 

Anger welled up inside him, cold and helpless. What could he do, anyway? Papyrus could fight back on his own - he  _ wouldn’t _ , but that was his choice to make. Sans couldn’t shadow him, make sure he never got hurt. 

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Sans took the box he was offered, looking inside suspiciously. It was some kind of purple sludge, with a sprig of parsley on top. He took a trepidatious bite. It tasted somehow carbonated, like soda, with a texture soda shouldn’t have. But altogether, not too bad -

“What the hell?” He pulled a flake of something out of his mouth, staring at it. “Is this… Is this a sequin?”

“Yeah!” Papyrus grinned. “Don’t worry, they’re edible! I’m pretty sure they are… I ate a ton of them.” He looked momentarily worried, but shook it off. “Totally edible!”

“Cool, cool.” He’d pass on that one. “Thanks for bringin’ me all this, Pap.”

“No problem!” Papyrus beamed, posing. “I’ll take you with me next time!”

“Nah, you know I’m not gonna horn in on your date, bro. Plus I dunno if it’s really my kinda scene. But thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Oh.” Papyrus deflated a little, then his eyes lit up as though he’d suddenly remembered something. “I gotta call Undyne! She’s gonna want to hear all about it!”

As Papyrus bounded down the hall, Sans called after him.

“Hey, Papyrus?”

Sans’s tone, unusually serious, stopped him in his tracks, and he turned around. “...Yeah?”

“Why are graveyards so noisy?”

He sounded like he was asking a riddle, like the answer might unlock some great mystery of existence. Or impart an ancient wisdom. Papyrus frowned, confused. “Huh?”

“‘Cause of all the coffin.”

Silence filled the apartment, until Papyrus let out a heavy groan. _“Sans!_ Come _on!”_

He stomped the rest of the way to his room and slammed the door, and Sans chuckled to himself. God, it was good to see him so happy. Papyrus was rarely sad, exactly - just that these days his optimism felt like it didn’t come naturally. Like it was taking all of his strength to maintain it, or he was just maintaining it out of spite. Sans knew things hadn’t exactly been easy on him. Most of the humans didn’t want them there, and they weren’t always subtle about it. They were stuck in a shithole apartment, a far cry from their cozy house in Snowdin, with all of their friends close by. Far from where they belonged.

Papyrus was genuine and sweet, who always wanted to be kind and do the right thing. Sans hoped Mettaton was the kind of person who would treasure that about him, and not the kind of person who would take advantage of it. Or string him along. 

Sans sighed. Maybe he would tag along the next time the two of them went out. Or they could invite Mettaton over, if he wasn’t too fancy to come to this part of town. Make sure he really was as nice as Papyrus thought. 

The short distance to his bed seemed too far, and he could hear Papyrus’s muffled shouting even down the hall. He’d never get any sleep with that on the other side of the thin wall. Sans pulled the blanket over himself again and resigned himself to a night on the couch. 


	4. The Lecture and the Selfie

The limousine pulled up in front of his hotel, and he stepped out gracefully, stifling a yawn. God, these batteries really didn’t last long at all. He’d have to recharge properly tonight.

Alphys was already inside, pacing around on her phone and having a frantic conversation with someone. As soon as she saw him, she gasped, and then let out a heavy sigh of relief. “He’s here! I-I’ll call you back.”

She tapped the screen with an impatient claw, then turned to him, hands on her hips. Her glasses had slid down her nose and looked to be in danger of falling off, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Where have you  _ been? _ Your - your phone was off, and I had no idea where you were! I thought you got kidnapped!”

Mettaton laughed, patting her on the head. She let out a huff of annoyance. “Darling, I left you a note. I was out catching up with an old friend. No need to get so bent out of shape.”

“You left me a  _ note? _ ” When she was angry, her stutter almost disappeared. He wondered idly if she knew that. “You left me a napkin in your dressing room that said ‘BYE’.”

“With a lipstick kiss, so you wouldn’t worry.” He waved dismissively, draping himself across the black chaise longue.

“Why did you turn your phone off, then? Why didn’t you at least text me and tell me where you were?”

“Alphys, my dear, it’s terribly rude to text during dinner. I’m sure you know that.”

She stomped over to him, arms folded over her chest, a fire in her eyes he’d never seen before. “We aren’t in the underground anymore. There are people here who want to hurt you. Who want to hurt  _ all  _ of us. And they  _ can _ .”

Mettaton sat up, surprised and chastened by her tone. “I - I’m sorry. I know that. I really didn’t mean to worry you. But look - I’m fine! Not a scratch on me!” He gave her a big smile, and batted his eyes, hoping to lighten the mood.

She stared at him for a moment longer, brows furrowed, then sighed. Her shoulders drooped, like she was carrying the weight of the world. “I’m glad,” she whispered, and lifted up her glasses to rub self-consciously at her eyes.

Guilt wasn’t an emotion Mettaton liked feeling, nor was it one he was used to. But he was sure feeling his fair share of it tonight.

He gathered Alphys up in a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “I’m sorry, darling. Really. I don’t mean to make things more difficult for you. I’ll - make sure and text you next time.”

She sniffed against his shoulder, her short arms wrapped around him, her voice still soft. “You really scared me.”

Mettaton sighed inwardly. He hadn’t meant to do that, of course. He just didn’t like... restrictions. Back in the underground, he’d gone where he wanted, done what he wanted. No one to answer to. But she was right - it was different here. Dangerous, even for him, the idol of all humanity. 

He remembered the crack in Papyrus’s skull. Dangerous even for the sweetest of them.

“I won’t do it again. I promise.” Once again, he reminded himself that he needed to be nicer to Alphys. She’d done so much for him, just out of the goodness of her heart. He’d never have become a star, much less an incredibly handsome one, without her. Letting her know he wasn’t kidnapped or dead really was the least he could do.

“Please don’t.” She took a deep, shaky breath, letting go of him reluctantly to wipe her glasses on her shirt. “I-I’m sorry I yelled. I just - g-get really worried. About you. A-about everybody.”

It was hardly yelling - he wasn’t sure she had it in her to actually yell - but Mettaton nodded at her reassuringly. “You had every right to be angry, my dear. I was being thoughtless.”

Alphys gave him a small, shy smile, indicating that all was forgiven. She’d never been able to stay mad at him for long. “I-it’s okay. Did you have fun? Who-who did you go with?”

He yawned, hearing the metal of his jaw shift. “Our old friend, Papyrus. He was at the show. We went to Mettaton’s.”

“Oh!” Her face lit up. “That s-sounds so nice! I talk to him online a-all the time!”

“Oh, yes, he was delightful.” Mettaton stood up, stretching. “So  _ adorable. _ And I meant to ask, do you happen to have his number? I forgot to get it from him.”

Alphys was smiling like she knew something he didn’t, but he was too tired to pry. She sent it to his phone - which had been implanted in his head, very convenient, he’d have to thank her again for that later - and followed after him as he headed to his room.

He collapsed heavily - but still gracefully - into his seat, and she plugged him into the charging port. “Thank you, darling,” he mumbled, his eyes growing heavy. “Oh - one more thing. Do you think you could find a place for Papyrus in one of the restaurants? Apparently he’s fond of cooking. Nearby, preferably, I’m not sure he’d want to relocate.”

Alphys looked at him curiously. “Did he say he w-wanted to work there? I-I didn’t know he could make anything o-other than spaghetti.”

“No, I thought of it.” Another yawn. “I have no idea how well he cooks, but he seems determined. I’m sure he’ll do fine. What’s the point of having influence if you can’t use it to help out your friends?”

The room was growing dark around him, and he didn’t see the fond, proud look on Alphys’s face, and if she had a response, he didn’t hear it. 

-

Mettaton had been trying to find the right angle for a selfie for nearly twenty minutes, and he was starting to get frustrated. It would have been easier from a bed, but damn if he was going to back down from a challenge. He was  _ not  _ going to let the awkward position of his charging port get the better of him. 

He’d made sure his hair was just the right amount of disheveled, and his eyelids looking just a tad heavy, as though he’d just woken up. It couldn’t look  _ too  _ staged, that defeated the entire purpose. He took and promptly deleted about 50 pictures before he settled on one that looked right. Relaxed expression, hair brushed over one eye, good lighting - although he had to contort his arm to take it. 

He sent it, with the message:  __ Good morning, darling!  It’s me, of course. Alphys gave me your number, I hope that’s alright  

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately, and disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again.

Mettaton smiled, and set his phone down. If Papyrus texted back, the phone Alphys implanted in his head would get it, anyway. Time to see what she had on the schedule for today.

He found her asleep on the chaise longue in the living room, snoring gently. A much less gentle snoring could be heard coming from the phone beside her.

Up too late talking to Undyne again, then. He chuckled quietly to himself, pulling a cashmere blanket over her. Now that was romance. 

Suddenly things went… strange. It was like his vision fizzled slightly, accompanied by a faintly unpleasant buzzing sensation in his spine. Colors seemed to melt together for a split second, before going back to normal as though nothing had happened. He frowned, blinking. Well, this was new. Then again, Alphys had made a lot of upgrades to his body since coming to the surface, and it was only to be expected that not all of them would work perfectly. He’d have to ask her about it when she woke up.

Another buzzing, one he recognized. Papyrus had finally decided what he wanted to say. Mettaton pulled up his phone in his vision, smiling to himself and leaning on the grand piano. 

_ METTATON!!! HI!!!!! _

_ I MEAN GOOD MORNING!!! ALSO!!!!!!! _

_ THATS TOTALLY FINE!!!! REALLY, I DONT MIND!!!! TELL HER SHE CAN GIVE YOU MY NUMBER WHENEVER SHE WANTS!!!!! _

_ WELL. I GUESS SHE ALREADY DID. BUT IF I HAD ANOTHER ONE, SHE COULD GIVE YOU THAT ONE TOO!!!!! _

Mettaton laughed, and made himself comfortable on the piano. It seemed like this might take a while. 

_ HOW ARE YOU? DID YOU GET HOME OKAY? _

_ I GUESS YOU DID SINCE YOU TALKED TO ALPHYS AND IT LOOKS LIKE YOURE IN A HOTEL. THATS GOOD!!!!!! _

_ DID YOU GET ENOUGH SLEEP? OR…… RECHARGE ENOUGH? IM GLAD YOUR BATTERIES LASTED LONG ENOUGH!!!!! _

_ OH!!! WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEND A PICTURE TOO??? SORRY!!!!! IM JUST GETTING TO WORK!!! I DONT HAVE TO WORK FOR ANOTHER COUPLE OF HOURS BUT I LIKE TO GET THERE EARLY JUST IN CASE!!!! I CAN SEND YOU ONE FROM HERE IF YOU WANT? _

Then a selfie. Half of Papyrus’s grinning face in the evening sun, and the bleak grey building rising up behind him.

_ WAS THAT OK??  _

If Mettaton didn’t say something soon, this would probably go on all night. And as charming as that would be, it would be rude to leave him waiting. 

_ It was lovely, darling  You’re terribly photogenic! How did Sans like the food you brought him? _

It took Papyrus a while to formulate his response. 

_ OH WOWIE!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!! _

_ AND HE LOVED IT!!! THANK YOU FOR THAT TOO!!!! YOU REALLY DIDNT HAVE TO DO ALL THAT FOR ME!!!!! _

_ If I had to, it wouldn’t have meant as much, would it?  _

The only unpleasant thing about texting was that you couldn’t see the other person’s reaction. 

 


	5. The Job

Working the night shift was extremely lonely. Lots of the other guards brought a book, or watched TV, or talked on the phone, but Papyrus saw that as a grave dereliction of duty. You couldn’t be distracted. Just because nothing ever happened, didn’t mean nothing would.

He usually faced down the prospect of long nights alone with single-minded determination, and was comforted by the idea that what he was doing was of the utmost importance. But tonight he didn’t need to steel himself. Tonight, he was floating.

Mettaton had texted him out of the blue, even sending him a sleepy selfie, a concept he’d never even considered. And he was so  _ beautiful! _ How was it that he was so beautiful, even right after waking up? Papyrus always looked like a mess right after he woke up. 

Every step he took reverberated against the concrete, keeping a rhythm with his thoughts.  _ Mettaton. Mettaton. Mettaton.  _

Not only was he talented, and beautiful, and smart, but he was so  _ kind! _ Taking him to dinner, even sending him extra food to take home to Sans, giving him free tickets, checking up on him… Papyrus’s head spun. Mettaton was such a good friend. How was he ever going to be able to be as good a friend to Mettaton? 

He ducked his head, so that people walking past didn’t see him blush.  _ Mettaton, Mettaton. _

Papyrus decided to go into the cafe next to the office building, to get a coffee and a bagel and kill some time before his shift. It turned out that the people who worked in the office didn’t like him getting there early. He’d thought they’d feel safer, but it seemed like he just got in the way.

The employees at the cafe weren’t really fans of his either, but they were probably just shy. He knew he could get a little loud sometimes, so he made sure to lower his voice when he was there. They’d all be best friends before they knew it.

For a moment, he let himself think about how nice it would be to have a usual spot, like Sans had had with Grillby’s. Somewhere everyone was friends, and smiled and greeted him when he came in. A place he could feel comfortable, and say all the things he was bursting to talk about.

Well, if this cafe wasn’t it, he’d find somewhere like that. But he wasn’t giving up on this place just yet.

“Hello,” he said softly, giving the girl behind the counter his friendliest smile. “How are you doing today?”

She frowned, and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“I’m doing well! Thank you. May I please have a medium coffee? And an everything bagel. Actually, could I get a large coffee instead? Long shift tonight.” He’d heard people say that before, and the person they were talking to always nodded back in a shared camaraderie. Papyrus smiled at the girl again (Emily, her name was Emily, her nametag said so, but they didn’t like it when he called them by their names. He had thought about getting a nametag of his own, but Sans had gently discouraged him), but she just huffed and rang him up. Maybe she was just part-time, and only worked short shifts, so she didn’t understand.

She dropped his change into his hand, and the coins promptly fell between his finger bones and clattered on the counter. He picked them up as quickly as he could (they didn’t like him to take too long getting his change, either).

“Thank you. I hope you have a very good night.” His throat was starting to feel strained from talking so quietly. He took the bag and cup she offered him, stoically refusing to wince when the hot coffee sloshed onto his hand, and settled into a chair in the corner. 

Mettaton had texted him back at some point. And Papyrus had kept him waiting! That was definitely not what good friends did. 

_ If I had to, it wouldn’t have meant as much, would it?  _

His food forgotten, his coffee growing colder by the second, Papyrus zeroed in on the kiss emoji as though it was the only thing in the world. He suddenly felt very warm, his heart pounding like he’d just run a marathon. 

He remembered Sans saying,  _ “He was waiting for you to kiss him.” _ Sans was the smartest person he knew, but he was definitely wrong this time. That’s just how Mettaton was. Very friendly, and affectionate. He definitely didn’t want to kiss Papyrus. Definitely not.

But that was alright! Even though the very idea made him feel dizzy and made the world spin around him, being good friends with Mettaton was plenty. More than enough!

Papyrus cradled his phone in both hands protectively, like he was holding a baby bird. What was he supposed to  _ say  _ to that? 

_ I GUESS NOT!!!  _

His finger hovered over the “send” button. No, that sounded… mean. Flippant?

_ YOURE SO SO NICE!!!!! REALLY!!!!! I REALLY APPRECIATE EVERYTHING YOUVE DONE!!!!! _

Boy, he was really not holding up his end of this friendship. What had  _ he  _ done for Mettaton in return? Pretty much nothing, except eat a bunch of free food.

_ YOUVE REALLY DONE SO MUCH NICE STUFF FOR ME!!!! IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO FOR YOU? _

_ Darling, the pleasure of your company is all I need.  _

Papyrus felt his cheeks grow hot, and he glanced wildly around the cafe, trying to catch someone else’s eye. Someone he could share his excitement with. No one looked up.

_...Although, now that you mention it… _

_ As I’m sure you know, I’m on break from my tour, so I have quite a bit of free time. Would I be able to steal you again soon? _

Papyrus hunched over his phone, determined to play it cool.  _ WOULD YOU GIVE ME BACK? _

_ If I had my way, probably not. But you’d be missed, so I suppose I should  _

Oh boy. Oh,  _ boy. _

_ EITHER WAY IS FINE WITH ME!!!!!! _

He groaned. Not very cool.

There was a long, agonizing minute before Mettaton responded. 

_ I’ll keep that in mind.  _

_ By the way, how is your head feeling? _

Papyrus pulled the bill of his hat down a little lower, glad that it was a mandatory part of his work uniform.  _ IT’S FINE! IT FEELS A LOT BETTER! I GUESS IT HEALED REALLY FAST! THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!! _

_ I’m very glad to hear that, darling.   _ _ I certainly hope you gave those scoundrels a good talking-to about their carelessness. _

Papyrus winced, remembering. The kids had chased him for a good two miles after he had greeted them and helpfully informed them that painting their names on trains wasn’t a very nice thing to do. Somehow that hadn’t led to friendship, and Papyrus had been able to dodge all but one of the rocks they hurled at him once they realized he didn’t have the disadvantage of running out of breath and could easily outpace them. It had been a little harder to dodge the shouts of “Go back to hell, monster!”

They were probably good kids, deep down. They were just on the wrong track. He laughed a little to himself. The wrong “track.” He thought briefly about telling Sans - he always enjoyed a good pun - but thought better of it. Sans didn’t need to know the details about that. He had enough to worry about as it was.

_ OH, THAT WASN’T REALLY NECESSARY! I’M SURE THEY LEARNED THEIR LESSON! _

Another pause, during which Papyrus was desperately hoping Mettaton would change the subject.

__ My Papyrus, shaping America’s youth. It warms my heart   

_ His  _ Papyrus? Stuffing the entire bagel into his mouth, startling the old man at the table next to him, Papyrus typed frantically.

_ HAHA!! YES!! THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING. MAKING SURE THEY ALL GROW UP WITH A STRONG MORAL COMPASS!! THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING, ABSOLUTELY. _

Papyrus wasn’t generally given to swearing, but as soon as he sent the text he muttered a word to himself that he reserved only for the most dire of circumstances. 

_ ANYWAY!!! HOW ARE YOU? AND WHAT DID YOU WANT TO DO? _

_ WITH ME, I MEAN!!! _

_ BEFORE YOU GIVE ME BACK, I MEAN!!! _

Papyrus very much wanted to pound his head against the table, but resisted the urge. Mettaton was taking a really long time to text back, but he thought it was probably best if he stopped while his foot was in his mouth.

_ Well. _

_ It’s quite a long list   _ _ But perhaps you should choose what we do. It’s only fair; I did pick the activity last time. _

He furrowed his brow. A long list? Well, Mettaton probably knew all the coolest places to go.

__ And I’m excellent, sweetheart. Thanks to you   

_ I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE DOING WELL!!!!! I’M NOT SURE WHAT I DID, BUT I’M GLAD I HELPED!!!!  _

_ DO YOU WANT TO COME OVER TO MY HOUSE? WHEN YOU HAVE TIME? I KNOW SANS SAID HE WANTED TO SEE YOU, TOO!! I HAVE THURSDAY OFF IF YOU’LL BE FREE THEN!!!! _

_ OR IF YOU DON’T WANT TO THAT’S FINE!!!! WE CAN DO SOMETHING ELSE!!! WHATEVER YOU WANT!!! _

_ My goodness, you are just the sweetest thing.  _

__ That sounds absolutely wonderful to me   __ I’d be honored. Tell Sans I’m looking forward to seeing him, as well. 

_ I WILL!!!!! I CAN’T WAIT!!!!!!!! _

He could almost hear Sans chuckling in his ear.  _ “Desperate much?” _

_ Neither can I, darling.  _

_ Whatever shall I do until then, I wonder… _

Papyrus was beginning to think his confused expression might be permanent. _ I’M SORRY!! I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU HAD A LONG LIST OF THINGS YOU WANTED TO DO? IF YOU DON’T KNOW THE AREA THAT WELL I CAN RECOMMEND SOME ACTIVITIES!!! THERE’S LASER TAG ON MEADOWBROOK AVENUE, AND KARAOKE ON WEDNESDAY NIGHTS AT HATTIE’S TAVERN! UNDYNE AND I GO THERE SOMETIMES!! _

A very long pause. Maybe Mettaton didn’t like laser tag? Although he had to like karaoke, didn’t he?

_ Thank you for the recommendations. I’ll be sure to check them out. You’re too sweet. _

No emojis… Was he annoyed? Maybe he was just busy. Even if he wasn’t performing right now, Papyrus was sure he probably still had lots to do. 

He glanced at his watch, gulping down his now-cold coffee. Cate usually worked the day shift on Mondays, and he knew she’d appreciate a snack. She was the only other guard who ever wanted to talk to him, and he had to talk to  _ someone  _ before he spent another night going crazy from boredom and loneliness. If he left now, he’d still have some time to see her.

_ I HAVE TO GO TO WORK NOW, I’M SORRY!!! I’D VERY MUCH LIKE TO TALK TO YOU MORE, BUT I HAVE TO FOCUS ON SECURITY GUARDING, I’M AFRAID!!! ALTHOUGH IF YOU’RE STILL AWAKE WHEN I GET OFF I CAN TALK MORE!!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!! IT’S BEEN EXTREMELY GOOD TALKING TO YOU!!!! BYE!!!! I HOPE YOU FIND SOMETHING TO DO!!!!! I’M SORRY I HAVE TO WORK SO MUCH!!!!!!! _

He got a large coffee and two doughnuts to go from Emily, who avoided his eye as much as she could, and jogged the two blocks to the office building. Cate was indeed there, leaning on one hand on her desk and looking bored out of her mind. She sat up straight and gave Papyrus an easy smile when she saw him.

A human woman in about her late forties (Papyrus still had trouble telling age with humans sometimes, but judging by the grey in her hair and the lines around her eyes, she was probably middle-aged), she had the build of a lumberjack and the gruffness to match. But she had a loud, friendly laugh, and she didn’t mind listening to Papyrus talk. All very good qualities in a friend. 

“Hi, Cate!” he said, striding up to her, his voice booming through the empty foyer. “How was your shift? I hope it was good! It doesn’t look like anybody tried to rob the building or cause trouble while you were here! But if they did, I’m sure you could have taken care of it! Here, I brought you some coffee and doughnuts!”

Cate laughed, taking them gratefully. “Thanks, pal. Appreciate it. It’s been fuckin’ boring - I definitely don’t envy you the night shift.” She peered up into his face shrewdly. “You’re here pretty early. You must have a hell of a story to tell.”

Papyrus stopped himself from bouncing up and down. This was a workplace, he needed to be professional. “Well, since you asked -”

She took a bite of her doughnut, waiting patiently, a faint amusement in her eyes.

“- I met Mettaton! I went to his show last night, and we went to dinner! And we’ve been texting! And he’s going to come over on Thursday! And -”

Cate held up a hand to stop him, still chewing. “That pop star robot you got the hots for? You went out with him?” She nodded appreciatively, and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “Nice work, kid.” 

Papyrus flushed. “Well! It wasn’t a date. Not really! But it was… still very nice!”

Cate rolled her eyes, washing down the doughnut with approximately half her coffee. “You gotta tell him how you feel. You might be surprised. Worst case, you get turned down, but at least ya gave it your best shot.”

“No!” Papyrus looked horrified. “I can’t! We’re friends! And I don’t want to make him uncomfortable!”

She chuckled. “You’ve shown me plenty of his videos. I don’t think that boy’s capable of bein’ uncomfortable. But trust me, Stretch, keepin’ secrets ain’t good for anybody.”

“I don’t keep secrets!” He remembered what he’d told Sans and Mettaton about the kids in the trainyard, and felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t lied, exactly - he just didn’t want to upset them.

Cate shrugged. “Well, that’s my dose of wisdom for the day. Take it or leave it.”

Papyrus sat down in the chair next to her. Boy, it was nice to hang out with a human that didn’t jump when he got close to them. Besides Frisk, of course, but he barely got to see them these days. Being the ambassador sure was a busy job. “Thank you for your wisdom. I’ll definitely treasure it.”

She snorted into her coffee. “Comin’ from anybody else, that’d sound sarcastic as hell. But you’re welcome.”

-

After Cate left, Papyrus glanced quickly at his phone to see if Mettaton had responded. 

_ I’m sure I’ll figure something out _ _  I do hope work isn’t too hard on you. Let me know when you’re home safe, alright?   _

Papyrus was glad no one was around to see how red his cheeks were. Mettaton was so nice! He switched his phone off quickly, to keep from giving in to the temptation to text back.

The night passed slowly and uneventfully. At one point he thought there might have been a burglar in the air vents, and had eagerly opened the duct and peeked in, but it turned out to have just been a squirrel. He carried it back outside and put it in a tree, suffering several scratches and bites on the way. Luckily skeletons couldn’t get rabies. He was pretty sure of that.

Animals on the surface were so cute. Squirrels and birds and mice and cats… all of whom were terrified of him. Papyrus sighed. He’d wanted to get a kitten when they first came here, but all the kittens at the shelter had hissed when they saw him and hidden at the back of their cages, trembling. 

Sans had tried to comfort him, putting a hand on his arm and telling him, “They’re just used to humans, buddy. It’s just like when a cat meets a dog for the first time.”

He was probably right, but Papyrus couldn’t in good conscience subject an animal to constant, unbridled terror for however long it took for them to grow accustomed to him. No matter how soft and fluffy and adorable they were. No matter how nice it would be to go to sleep with a kitten curled up next to him. 

Sans said the world would get used to monsters. They just had to give it time. But it was taking a lot longer than Papyrus had hoped. 


	6. The New Job, and a Short Sans Interlude (no pun intended)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to get back into writing this... ive had this chapter done for a while, i had no idea i never posted it. whoops!!

Papyrus’s cluelessness was adorable, but deeply frustrating. It was like trying to flirt with a brick wall.

_“Laser tag?”_ Mettaton groaned, taking a swig of champagne. He’d looked it up - it sounded fairly interesting, actually - but that was not at _all_ what he’d been trying to insinuate. 

Alphys pulled the phone away from her ear slightly, looking frazzled. “W-what?”

“Nothing, darling, don’t worry about it.” Mettaton heaved a dramatic sigh. 

Alphys covered the bottom of the phone with her hand and hurried back into the living room. “Okay, well, I - I’m on the phone with the restaurant, about hiring Papyrus. The chef… isn’t happy.”

Mettaton tapped the first two fingers of his hand against his thumb, and Alphys hurriedly handed him the phone. 

“Hello?” he said sweetly, and waited as the man let loose a veritable tirade. Something something he’s untrained, hasn’t even been to culinary school, this is an upscale establishment, blah blah blah.

“Darling, I understand your concerns,” Mettaton purred, his voice silky. “I just have one question.”

The chef huffed. “What’s that?”

“What is the restaurant called?”

A silence on the other end. Mettaton smirked, imagining the look on his face.

“...Mettaton’s.”

“It _is,_ isn’t it? Just one more question, if you don’t mind. Who’s in charge there?”

“You are.” He sounded cowed, all the fury gone out of him. Excellent.

“Very good! I am. If I say something happens, it happens, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“If I say Papyrus works there now, he does, doesn’t he? If I say you’re fired, and that I’ll replace you with someone who _will_ train him, that happens as well, am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong, sir.” Defeat was clear in his voice. 

Mettaton hung up without another word and held the phone out to Alphys, who took it, looking slightly dazed. “There you go, dear. All taken care of.”

She toyed nervously with the phone in her hands. “Did you t-talk to Papyrus? Does he want to work there?”

“Not yet, but of course he does,” Mettaton said, sliding off the piano. “He likes to cook, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, I-I guess so.” She gave him a tremulous smile. 

“Alphys, darling, you look so stressed. You should take a break. Drink with me.” Mettaton raised his almost-empty glass in her direction. 

She looked at it longingly. “I would, but - there’s just still so much to do! I’ll-I’ll take a break soon. You have an interview coming up that I still need to work out the details for.”

Mettaton yawned, refilling his glass from the bottle on the counter. “I’ll leave it to you, then. I might play some laser tag later.”

“Laser what?” 

“Or karaoke. Whatever mood strikes me.”

“Ok, well -” She hurried after him as he sauntered onto the balcony. “Whatever you do, just take some security with you, okay? And let me know where you’re going?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He gave her his sweetest smile, which seemed to relieve her, and she went back to her phone. 

Mettaton stretched out on the lavish lounge chair, enjoying the sunlight and sipping his champagne, a pleasant buzz starting to come over him. He was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but thoughts of Papyrus.

The skeleton was attractive, he mused, and certainly seemed to be attracted to him as well. The only roadblock, in his mind, was Papyrus’s infuriating inability to take a hint. And judging by how flustered he got when Mettaton kissed his hand, he didn’t think Papyrus would respond well to bluntness, either. It was a fine line, and Mettaton wasn’t used to having to tread so lightly, especially when the other person clearly wanted him, too. 

Mettaton closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. He thought of Papyrus’s sweet smile, of how reverently Papyrus had touched him, of how utterly delighted every gesture seemed to make him, and smiled. It would be worth the chase.

-

Tonight was the janitor job, at an office building not far from where Papyrus worked. It was mind-numbingly boring, and it would have been made easier if he could talk to his brother, but Papyrus had made it clear he turned his phone off while on the job. Although not before he’d pointed out the irony of his incurably messy brother cleaning for a living. 

For some reason, picking up other people’s garbage wasn’t as difficult as picking up his own. Not that it was exactly fun either way. Sans shrugged, heaving a sigh and unlocking the back door to the building. Change of pace, he guessed. 

He felt heavy, like he’d been turned blue by one of his own attacks and rooted to the ground. It was taking almost all his strength just to slog through the hallway. God, he wanted a drink.

Papyrus would have scolded him strongly for drinking at work. Luckily, Papyrus wasn’t here. Sans pulled out his flask once he knew he was in the cameras’ blind spot, and took a swig. Not enough to make him sleepy, just enough to feel a little fire in his belly. 

Maybe he should swallow his pride and see if Toriel had a job for him at her school. But if she didn’t, if he had to see that look of pity on her face… He took another drink before screwing the cap back on.

Another night, with nothing but his thoughts. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the crushing weight of existence. A weight he shouldn’t, by rights, even feel anymore. Wasn’t this what they all wanted? Wasn’t everything supposed to be fine now?

Sans picked up his cleaning supplies, phone in one hand. 

_hey kid_

He’d thought Frisk would be asleep by now, but the response came promptly. 

_Hey, what’s up?_

_just checkin in. seein how youre doin. if you did your homework, and all that_

_You’re at work, aren’t you?_

_ya got me. gets kinda bonely around here and papyrus wont check his phone_

_:(_   
_You should get a different job! Mom could probably help you out if you asked_

_nah, i dont want to bother her. besides, i love my job. love cleaning up other peoples shit. its my dream come true, to be honest with you_

_> :(_   
_I don’t believe you. Your dream job is watching tv, I think_

Sans chuckled. Frisk was a good kid. Bright future ahead of them, tons of friends, plenty of prospects. Being a monster/human ambassador would definitely look good on a resume.

Toriel was doing well, too. Her gentle, motherly nature had endeared her to the parents of her students, and the waitlist to get in to her school was growing by the day. And Mettaton was the idol of all humanity, just like he wanted. Papyrus was… well, things were tough now, but with his determination and optimism he’d be just fine. He’d meet someone, settle down, have a family just like he always wanted.

And then there was Sans. For him, the future was a bleak grey cloud. No ambitions, no dreams, no motivation. He wanted something he couldn’t put a name to, something he wasn’t sure it was even possible for him to have. 

It shouldn’t have felt like that. He should be ecstatic, even with his shitty jobs, even with his shitty apartment. He was on the surface, something that had seemed impossible only a few years ago. The nightmare of waking up and reliving the same horrible day, with only minor differences, over and over, had ended. Why wasn’t he happy? Why did it feel like happiness got further and further away every day?

_you know anybody whos hiring a professional tv watcher?_

_No, but I’ll find someone. I’ve got connections ;)_

_thanks, kid. i owe ya one_


End file.
